


what we have is good

by taejinyo



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 22:04:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14902914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taejinyo/pseuds/taejinyo
Summary: zhengting falls in love on a sunny sunday afternoon at precisely 3:51pm.





	what we have is good

zhengting falls in love on a sunny sunday afternoon at precisely 3:51pm. he knows it’s 3:51pm because when it happens, he’s scrolling lazily through his social media, phone in hand. this is how it happens: he’s laying his head flat on zhangjing’s lap, zhangjing’s fingers raking gently through his hair as the tv blares mutedly in the background. then zhengting makes the horrible, terrible, very bad mistake of looking up, past his phone, up into zhangjing’s big gentle eyes and mischievous smile and, oh, holy fuck, he’s in love.

 

he shoots up like a bullet, forehead just barely missing zhangjing’s chin. “zhengting?” zhangjing frowns, worried. “what’s wrong? what happened?”

 

“i,” zhengting starts, throat dry. “i have to go, uh. over there. sorry, uh. i’ll be back. probably.” he very deliberately does not make eye contact as he lifts himself up off the couch. his face feels like it’s burning and he desperately prays it doesn’t look as hopeless as he thinks it does, because there’s no way he can hide what he’s thinking right now. zhengting doesn’t even spare a glance back at zhangjing as he rushes out of the room, missing the hurt expression on the other boy’s face as he’s left alone without a word.

  
  
  


okay, zhengting thinks, as he hides himself in the sanctuary of his shared room. justin and chengcheng are usually there, but they’ve gone out with linong and linkai today, something about being old enough to hang out without adult supervision. zhengting doesn’t get it, but whatever. he has more important things to figure out, namely, his giant crush on you zhangjing.

 

for a single, fleeting moment, he entertains the idea of zhangjing being his boyfriend, of them going out on dates and holding hands and sending each other gross, mushy texts first thing in the morning. he hates himself the moment he even considers it. first of all, even if zhangjing did like him back, which he doesn’t, it would be stupid to think that something as solid as a relationship would ever work out. there’s too much to risk, he’s finally come this far, he’s finally debuted. he can think of a million reasons why this is the worst thing his mind could ever decide to do to him.

 

besides. zhangjing doesn’t like him like that.

 

so, zhengting thinks, this is fine. it’s a crush, and crushes go away with time. he’ll get over it, he’ll act the exact same as he always does, and zhangjing will never know any different. he can do this.

  
  
  


he cannot do this.

 

it doesn’t even take a full twenty four hours for zhengting to realize that he can’t even look zhangjing in the eye anymore without _noticing_ things. little things, like the fact that zhangjing’s smile crooks more to one side than the other, and the way sometimes he blinks a few times too fast when he’s tired, and how his nose scrunches up when he laughs. if zhangjing weren’t so unbearably _gentle_ , zhengting wouldn’t find it so difficult to lock up his feelings where he’d never be able to reach them.

 

instead, zhangjing reaches up to ruffle zhengting’s hair, and says, “you’ve been practicing, haven’t you? your high notes have improved so much.” zhangjing flicks zhengting on the forehead, so soft and kind that zhengting hurts just that much more. “i’m proud of you, zhengzheng.”

 

any other day, zhangjing’s words would make him the happiest he’s ever been. today, a burning knot swells up in the base of zhengting’s throat, choking the breath out of his lungs. smile, he tells himself. smile and say thank you.

 

what comes out onto his face is closer to a grimace. “yeah,” he bites out, forcing every word out, “thanks.”

  
  
  


zhengting deals with most of his problems the exact same way: he throws himself into his work. he tries to forget the moments that he would have spent lazing beside zhangjing, secretly nibbling on bright red pieces of candy that would stain their lips with colour, singing old love songs in the wrong key. from now on, he replaces those times with hours in the practice studio. hardening the calluses on his feet, straining the muscles in his calves, pushing himself to the edge of exhaustion and then toppling past that brink without looking back. when he comes back to the dorms after all the other kids have already fallen asleep, he lays on top of his sheets without even changing out of his sweat-soaked track pants. he’s too tired to fall asleep, staring at the ceiling until he hears the first birds chirp at the blink of dawn.

 

the lack of sleep spills over into the rest of zhengting’s life. xukun pulls him aside one day, lines of concern etched on his face. “what’s up,” he asks. “did something happen with zhangjing? why are you trying to burn yourself out?”

 

zhengting appreciates xukun’s worry, he really does, xukun’s a great leader. “nothing’s up,” he pushes xukun away with what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “me and zhangjing are okay. i just haven’t been sleeping well, you know how it is.”

 

xukun looks like he’s having trouble believing him. zhengting doesn’t blame him. “really,” zhengting says again. “if there was anything serious, i’d tell you.”

 

“okay,” xukun says, still unconvinced. “if you say so.”

  
  
  


zhangjing isn’t as easy to get rid of. he corners zhengting after rehearsal one day, crowds him against the kitchen table with that small body of his. zhangjing doesn’t usually get mad, not really. but zhengting can tell how pissed off he is right now. the frustration is rolling off his body in waves, and even though zhengting knows that’s he’s almost twice zhangjing’s size, he still feels himself shrink back.

 

“i don’t know what i did to make you hate me,” zhangjing’s voice is still calm and level and controlled, “and i just want to know how i can make it better.”

 

this is the closest zhengting’s been to zhangjing in more than a week. it’s a little overwhelming. zhengting avoids zhangjing’s eyes, gaze darting to the side as he stays silent. zhangjing sighs, all the fight draining out of him. “i want you to rest, at least,” he says. “okay?”

 

“sure,” zhengting lies. “i will.”

 

zhangjing narrows his eyes. “sure,” he says, mocking. he grabs zhengting’s wrist and pulls him out the door, leading him to the living room couch. sinking down into the cushions, he pats his lap firmly. “come here,” he orders. zhangjing never really acts his age, but right now, as zhangjing looks at him sternly, zhengting is reminded that he really is the oldest boy of them all.

 

he shuffles obediently to the couch and sits down beside zhangjing, stiff as a board. without warning, zhangjing curls his hand around zhengting’s neck and pushes his head down until it’s resting flush against zhangjing’s thighs. zhengting’s eyes flutter close involuntarily as a familiar sense of security settles over him. he knows he needs to get up, that he can’t let himself get this comfortable around the other boy. even now, as exhaustion and stress thud through his blood, he smells that faint, almost imperceptible scent of _zhangjing._ maybe it’s that scent, or maybe it’s the fingers massaging faint circles to his scalp, but zhengting feels himself being lulled into a warm sleep, more at ease than he’s been for an eternity.

  
  
  


when zhengting’s eyelashes flutter open again, he’s still right where he remembers. zhangjing’s muscles shift beneath him. zhengting blinks, still half-asleep. there’s no way zhangjing could have stayed where he was the entire time. from the edge of his periphery, zhengting can see the sun setting out of the window, which means it must have been at least three hours since zhengting fell asleep. he must have moved, and then come back.

 

zhengting chances a glance up, then startles. zhangjing is staring back him with a tender smile. “good morning, sunshine,” he says.

 

in that moment, zhengting is suddenly and totally certain that zhangjing hasn’t moved an inch since he sat down and bullied zhengting into actually resting. “you should have woken me up,” he accuses weakly, still too tired to raise his head all the way.

 

“and have you run away?” zhangjing scoffs. “no thanks. i’ve got you here now and i’m not letting you go just yet.”

 

“it’s not you,” zhengting says instantly. which is true. zhangjing really hasn’t done anything wrong, except been too kind, too bright, too caring.

 

zhangjing rolls his eyes. “spare me the whole _it’s not you, it’s me_ thing, zhengzheng. i don’t need excuses.” he hesitates, visibly choosing his next words. “i just….i miss you.”

 

deep in his chest, zhengting feels an explosion of fluttering leaves stirring his heart. oh, oh no. it’s like this again, he’s in this position one more time, peering up at zhengting’s chocolate eyes and feeling all his blood vessels simultaneously burst. a flush of red creeps rapidly up his veins, filling in his cheeks and ears. fuck, he’s not any less in love than he was two weeks ago. he’s actually somehow even more smitten. today, he doesn’t have anywhere to run to, because he knows zhangjing will just follow him.

 

he also knows, without a single doubt, that every thought he’s just had has been broadcasting straight across his face. zhangjing gapes at him, mouth open, as he watches zhengting squirm in his lap. he leans in a little closer, and freezes when zhengting jolts under him, blushing even deeper.

 

“huh,” zhangjing say. “zhengting, i’m going to try something now, okay?”

 

zhengting doesn’t know if the motion he makes is closer to a nod or to a shake of his head. zhangjing must take it as the former, because he slowly, and deliberately, presses his lips tight against zhengting’s open.

 

zhengting gasps, and zhangjing takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside his mouth, exploring every crease and crevasse he can reach. when he finally pulls away, he’s breathing hard.

 

“zhengzheng,” he says, awed. “is this….are you…” he trails off.

 

zhengting turns his head and buries his face into zhangjing’ stomach. he doesn’t want zhangjing to see more of how pathetic he is. zhangjing juggles his leg in warning, and zhengting pulls back, just a little so that zhangjing won’t say anything else.

 

“zhengzheng,” zhangjing repeats. “do you like me?

 

zhengting doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. it’s written all over his face.

 

zhangjing bends down for another kiss, this time just a brush of lips against skin. “you idiot,” he says fondly. “is this what you’ve been hurting yourself for? you should have just told me.”

 

eyelids flickering closed at the touch, zhengting takes solace in the darkness of his own sight to ask his next question. “do you really, truly, honestly like me,” he says.

 

he doesn’t open eyes, readily awaiting the rejection he’s almost sure will come his way. instead, all he feels is a light pressure against his forehead, as if someone is dropping a soft peck right in the center of it. “yes,” says zhangjing. “i really, truly, honestly do.”

 

“i,” zhengting breathes out, eyes still squeezed shut. “i’m scared.”

 

zhangjing’s breath hovers over zhengting’s closed eyelids, placing a sweet kiss on each of them until they relax, some of the tension in their bodies bleeding out. “you don’t have to worry about anything,” zhangjing says. “that's what i’m here for.”

 

he waits until zhengting carefully opens his eyes, still a little too guarded and vulnerable. then, he adds, “let me make you happy. i want to make you happy.”

 

zhengting basks in the warmth of zhangjing’s words, alongside the heat of his body. these past two weeks have sapped him of his strength, but now, lying less than a foot away from zhangjing, he smiles. his heart swells with joy and affection. “don’t worry,” he tells zhangjing, finally looking him in the eye for the first time this entire conversation.

 

“when i’m with you,” zhengting beams radiantly, “i’m always happy.”

**Author's Note:**

> come hang out with me at [@zhngzyi!!](https://twitter.com/zhngzyi)


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